Chapter 30: His Flipped Hourglass

Raziel stood frozen in the doorway, his heart still hammering in his throat.

“Congratulations on your awakening,” the Inquisitor said. “Now you belong to the Church more than ever.”

The door closed behind him and Raziel stepped into the hallway.

He almost bumped into Lucian, who was pale as a ghost and chewing his nails anxiously.

“Raziel!” Lucian exclaimed, grabbing him by the shoulders with a strength he didn’t expect.

“What happened in there? What the hell did you tell them? For a moment there, I thought we’d never see the light of day again!”

They started walking fast, almost running, through the cold stone corridors.

Only then, once they were in the main courtyard, did Raziel let out a breath.

“I told them I’m a Fire Elementalist and that it was all an accident,” Raziel muttered, feeling the exhaustion from the lie crash down on him like a ton of bricks.

“They bought the story that I’m just a rookie mage who had a stress-induced awakening.”

Lucian stared at him with wide eyes, unable to believe it.

“An Elementalist? But you’ve never shown a single spark of magic.”

“There are a lot of things I haven’t shown, Lucian,” Raziel said, his gaze fixed on the clock tower, thinking about how ridiculously close he’d come to dying again. “And you’re going to have to trust me.”

The door to Lucian’s room closed, and they were finally alone.

Lucian’s room was a mess, but an expensive one. There were books, scrolls, and a ton of a noble’s trinkets scattered everywhere.

His new friend dropped into a plush armchair, trying to look relaxed, but Raziel could see the worry etched on his face.

Raziel sat on the edge of the bed. His bandaged hand throbbed, a reminder of Lucian’s recklessness. He spoke with the most serious voice he’d ever used.

“Lucian, I have to tell you something,” he said. “Something big, and it’s not going to be easy to hear.”

Lucian raised an eyebrow.

“Bigger than almost dying in a crypt with weird lights? Go on, Raziel. I’m listening.”

Raziel ignored his attempt at a joke.

“I wasn’t entirely honest with you about what I know… or how I know it.”

Lucian leaned forward, his eyes locked on him.

“I told you I remember the future,” Raziel continued, and the words sounded strange, almost unreal, even to him. “But I didn’t tell you the whole truth. I’ve already lived it, or a version of it.”

A heavy silence filled the room. Lucian looked skeptical, but he waited for Raziel to go on.

“The next king of Phaedra isn’t the crown prince. It’s his younger brother, Prince Ayres, who will take the throne in a bloody coup, because he’ll claim it’s his divine right and the Church will back him.”

Lucian was trying to process what he’d just heard. Suddenly, he let out a mocking laugh.

“Ayres? That useless prince? He barely knows how to dress himself, how is he going to pull off a coup?”

Raziel was surprised by his reaction. He expected disbelief, but not for him to treat it like a joke.

Lucian was probably remembering the times as kids when he was forced to play with the little prince, a spoiled brat who could barely string two sentences together.

The idea of that kid becoming king was just ridiculous.

But then, Raziel’s words, and what they had seen in the crypt, made him hesitate.

“He’s being manipulated, Lucian,” Raziel said in a low voice. “They turn him into their weapon, power-hungry advisors use him as their puppet.”

Lucian frowned. “And the Church? What about the next Luminar?”

Raziel hesitated for a second.

“The Church splits. Some will side with Ayres, and others will fight against him. There will be a lot of greed and corruption pulling the strings.”

“And what about me, Raziel?” Lucian interrupted, his voice a bit tighter. “What happens to me in your future?”

Raziel looked him in the eyes.

“You… you stay in the Nyxian duchy and become your father’s personal Priest.”

The color drained from Lucian’s face.

“My father’s Priest?” he whispered, and a tremor ran through his hands. “Is that all?”

“That’s worse than death,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Being his lapdog? Shit, Raziel.”

“But that’s not all” Raziel continued, and suddenly, a sharp pain shot through his temple.

[TRAUMA TRIGGER ACTIVATED]

He closed his eyes, and for a second, Lucian’s room disappeared.

He smelled ash and burnt flesh.

He heard the wet sound of swords cutting through bone and the cries of thousands who no longer had a voice.

“Ayres didn’t just conquer lands” Raziel’s voice came out hoarse, distant. “He wanted total power. It wasn’t just a war, Lucian. It was a purge and I saw entire cities reduced to smoking rubble, children hanged from the capital walls just for having the wrong eye color.”

Raziel opened his eyes, breathing heavily.

“It was a horrible time to be alive, Lucian. The sky was always gray from the smoke of the funeral pyres.”

Lucian stared at him.

He had seen the change in Raziel’s eyes, that thousand-yard stare of someone who’s seen hell.

“Why are you telling me all this now?” Lucian asked, his voice subdued.

“Because,” Raziel said, catching his breath, “before I died, Zion told me something. That she would give me a second chance, and I want to use it to stop everything from going to hell again.”

Lucian got up and started pacing, processing the madness.

“Your story sounds like the ravings of a madman, Raziel. Any other time, I would have dragged you to the infirmary.”

He stopped and looked directly at Raziel.

“But I saw that golden light in the crypt. I saw how that thing- that was Seraphina was afraid of you. That wasn’t rookie magic, that was real power. And if what you’re saying is true, if my destiny is to be my father’s slave…”

He clenched his fists.

“Then I’d rather believe your crazy story than accept that reality.”

Raziel stood up too and put a hand on his shoulder.

“We don’t have to fix everything today. But every step we take will get us closer to changing that future, so we can do it together.”

Lucian looked at him. “Alright, Raziel. If you’re going to jump into this mess, I’m jumping in with you. I’d rather die fighting than end up polishing the Duke’s boots.”

Raziel smiled, a rare, genuine smile.

“Thanks, Lucian. It’s going to be a hell of a ride, but I’m glad you’re with me.”

“Well, if I’m going to be part of this grand adventure, I’d better get something out of it,” Lucian said, trying to get his usual tone back, though his voice trembled a little. “Maybe you can teach me some of that Bard magic of yours, or how to shoot lightning from my fingers.”

Raziel let out a laugh, and the tension eased a bit.

“Don’t even think about it. I’ll ask Lara for help, I’m sure she’ll take it seriously.”

“You offend me, Raziel! Don’t you trust me? Don’t I deserve to wield the gifts of Zhalyr by your side?”

Raziel shook his head, his expression softening.

“Of course I trust you, Lucian. I know I can count on you, even if you’re more worried about your personal glory than the fate of the kingdom.”

Lucian grinned from ear to ear.

“Ah, but a little danger makes things more exciting, don’t you think, Raziel? Imagine the stories we’ll tell: the handsome nobleman and his heroic friend, fighting against evil and uncovering ancient secrets.”

Raziel rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help but smile.

“Just try not to get us killed,” he said, shaking his head.

They shared another laugh.

For a moment, they were just two friends facing an uncertain future, but facing it together.

It was then that Raziel coughed.

When he pulled his hand away from his mouth, his palm was stained black, not red.

A viscous, tar-like substance dripped between his fingers.

[SIDE EFFECT: Eco Corruption at 15%.]

[WARNING: Your health is fracturing.]

Raziel quickly balled his hand into a fist so Lucian wouldn’t see, but the hourglass had just been flipped…

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